


Each Their Own

by RetroactiveCon



Series: Four Times Trouble [17]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dinner dates, Dom/sub, M/M, Non-Sexual Kink, Play Fighting, Relationship Negotiation, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:01:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27263917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: "I want some time with Len tonight. Just the two of us. You two can stay in the house if you want and just kinda give us space, or you can go out on a date as just the two of you. But I want some time to…I dunno. Settle back into the dynamic I know best.”
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart, Barry Allen/Leonard Snart/Earth-X Leonard "Leo" Snart/Ray Terrill, Earth-X Leonard “Leo” Snart/Ray Terrill
Series: Four Times Trouble [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706920
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SophiaCatherine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaCatherine/gifts).



> For SophiaCatherine, who asked both for more confident Barry and for Ray and Leo to get a bit of solo time. That worked out quite nicely with the OT4 breaking off into couples for a night - I hope it gives all of them a bit more time to grow!

Talking with Leo and Ray about his need to be able to do his own thing goes much better than Barry anticipated. He’s used to this—he worries and scripts and plans for the worst, only to have his requests met respectfully. Both of them seem confused that he thought they wanted unquestioning obedience even outside of a scene, but they agree with his assessment that they're accustomed to giving casual orders because of their time in the resistance. 

“It never occurred to me how you would take that, in such a different context,” Ray admits quietly. “I thought you’d know you had the right to refuse, especially if you were getting two other conflicting orders.”

Barry shakes his head and wraps his arms around himself. “I don’t know why I get like this sometimes—desperate for permission. You never said anything to make me think you’d be angry with me. My brain just…assumes, sometimes, and then gets into weird spirals with the assumptions.”

“What would help you to hear?” Leo rubs Barry’s back in a slow, steady rhythm. Barry could get lost in it if he let himself. “That outside of a scene, we don’t expect your obedience, and you can feel free to disregard anything that might sound like an order?”

Barry rocks slowly side to side as he considers. That might help. “I won’t ignore something that’s for my safety…unless it has to do with me not going out as the Flash, and then I’ll tell you to fuck right off with it.”

Leo snorts. “Well, we can hardly fault you for that one, when we were known to tell General Schott to fuck right off if he was keeping us from doing the right thing.”

Barry raises his eyebrows. “Really? Because I remember a lot of ‘we do what he says, he’s the general.’” 

Leo laughs and shakes his head. “In base, you say what you have to say so the General doesn’t feel threatened. When it comes time to make the hard calls, you do what’s right and take the scolding when you get back to base. I know you do that too, with your STAR Labs team—you’ve told me those stories.”

While Barry is still chuckling at the connection, Ray hurries to add, “If you do that to us—disobey an order that’s intended for your safety—we will never punish your good intentions. Ever. I adore your good heart, Barry, we all do.”

“You’ll punish the consequences,” Barry finishes. For some reason, Ray taking it here, now, makes him want to fast forward through the rest of this conversation. “Can we save that for if it happens? Because right now it feels like you’re not hearing me.”

“Of course.” Ray glances down, shamefaced. “I’m sorry, Barry.”

If Ray hadn’t said that, Barry might have struggled with his next request. Now, he feels like it’s necessary and justified. “And I want some time with Len tonight. Just the two of us. You two can stay in the house if you want and just kinda give us space, or you can go out on a date as just the two of you. But I want some time to…I dunno. Settle back into the dynamic I know best.”

“That’s a timely request.” Leo offers a bashful smile and squeezes Barry’s knee. “After…everything, the stress with my sister, all the feelings of reuniting with her like that…I want Ray to guide me through it. I love the two of you, and I’m glad that you were there…”

“But Ray’s who you know best,” Barry agrees. He leans over to give Leo a kiss on the cheek. “I understand. I’m glad the two of you can get what you need while I get what I need.” 

Phrasing it that way makes him glance at Len, who hasn’t said a word the entire discussion. Barry knows he’s trying to offer support without talking over Barry, but it makes him worry whether what he’s asking is right for Len. He’s only just settled into a more comfortable dynamic with Leo and Ray—Barry doesn’t know if it’s fair to him to split them up like this, into old couples and new partners. It might just deepen whatever reservations Len has about connecting with the two of them. 

“I’m not sure it’s what I need,” Len admits in response to Barry’s glance. He catches Barry’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “But it’s certainly what I want, Scarlet. I’d be happy for some time alone with you.”

Barry nods and murmurs, “Then…how should we do this?”

All three of them give him kind of odd looks. Right. He’s spent a whole conversation about how he doesn’t constantly want guidance, just to reach the end and immediately ask for someone else to make the plan. “Wait, no, I take that back,” he says. “Um. Will the two of you be okay here if Len and I go out for dinner?”

“We can call for takeout,” Ray suggests, grinning. Leo makes a little happy noise and leans against his side. 

“I like this plan already.”

“Um, and then.” Sex is likely to happen, at least for Leo and Ray. (Barry hasn’t decided how he feels about that concept yet—he’s been too close to overstim to consider it.) “The two of you…if you wanna do things, you can have the playroom? Len and I probably aren’t going to kink tonight.”

“Then the two of you will take the master bedroom?” Leo checks. With a note of worry, he adds, “Don’t disturb our plushie spot markers too much.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll still know who’s sleeping where,” Len promises. Barry notes he doesn’t say he won’t move the plushies, but he has good spatial reference memory—even if he moves them, he can put them back almost exactly where they were. 

“I’m not entirely sure we’ll make it to the bedroom,” Barry admits. There’s a part of him, buried under the overstim but growing louder, that wants to take Len somewhere they can play around. It’s been too long since the two of them played their high-powered, feelings-charged version of tag. He wants to let go like that tonight.

Leo opens his mouth. Ray pats his thigh to quiet him down and says, “Maybe we’ll hear what you mean by that later. For now, I expect we should let you go so we all have plenty of time to do…whatever it is we’re going to do.”

Barry heads immediately for the door. He’s dressed and ready to go; there’s no need to dress up for most places they would go to eat, and he doesn’t want to ruin his nice clothes with the game of tag afterward. 

“Five minutes, Scarlet,” Len says, and vanishes up the stairs. When he comes back down, he’s wearing a dress shirt, slacks, and nice shoes, and carrying a nondescript cross-body bag. He laughs at the look Barry gives him. “Did you doubt I would take you somewhere nice? Go on and change. I can wait.”

Just for that remark, Barry runs upstairs and changes at superspeed. He returns at a normal pace out of fear of damaging his good clothes, especially his nice shoes. When he reaches the bottom of the stairs, Len is watching. 

“You’re stunning, Scarlet,” he praises. One hand twitches up, then drops immediately back by his side. Barry almost pouts at Len denying him a touch, but if he stopped himself, it must have been some kind of sweetly dominating touch. Usually, Barry loves those—the little straightening of his collar or his hair, the fastening or unfastening of his topmost button according to Len’s desires—but he’s grateful Len is trying so hard to respect his boundaries. 

“Hold my hand?” he invites, trying to direct Len to a better touch. 

Len laces their fingers together immediately. “Yes, I’d like that.”

They take the long way to whatever restaurant Len has in mind. They always take the long way, Barry thinks with a grin. Len seems to believe Barry doesn’t notice he’s trying to buy more time for them to talk. From Len, who's usually so observant, such a mistaken assumption is adorable. Nobody knows the city like Barry, with how often he’s run through every back alley and side street. He knows all the quickest routes and could have them there in a quarter of the time, even without his speed. He’s just not going to point that out and ruin Len’s fun. 

By the time they reach the restaurant, the evening dinner crowd is there, which must have been Len’s goal. They’re able to slip into the restaurant without anyone recognizing Len—or Barry, but most of the people who would recognize him are colleagues. (That’s a level of chaos he doesn’t want tonight.)

Barry looks around curiously and his eyes widen. “Wait…did you bring me to a fancy buffet?”

Len shoots him a playful sideways grin. “You would never get enough to eat if I took you to a fancy restaurant. This was the next best choice.” He passes Barry a plate and nods for him to step ahead in line. “You first, you’re hungrier.”

Barry is acutely embarrassed at the difference in their portions. Len sits down opposite him and taps his fork against the rim of Barry’s plate. “All good choices. Eat up, and make sure to save room for dessert.”

Barry wiggles hopefully. “Ice cream?”

“Well,” Len teases, “I had visions of us sharing a slice of cake, but I don’t think that would be enough for you, would it?”

“No, uh.” Barry can imagine that, the two of them going back and forth feeding each other bites. It wouldn’t be much, at least by his standards, but it would get him plenty keyed up for something later. Sex, or… “Did you bring a change of clothes in that bag?”

Len doesn’t even ask him to elaborate on his train of thought. He just raises a playful eyebrow. “So what if I did, Scarlet?”

Barry wiggles in his seat, suddenly eager for dinner to be done. “Then let’s skip dessert altogether and—” 

“Scarlet,” Len says, his voice all low and purring with amusement. Barry shivers. Okay, so maybe he wouldn’t be _too_ averse to letting Len have the final say…just this once… “It’ll be more fun if you let me get you all keyed up and impatient.”

It’s not an order, just a reason—and a thoroughly logical one, as though Barry expected anything else from Len. He could push back, but he knows Len is right. “Oh, fine. If you let me get us both into our new clothes afterward.”

“You want to undress me, Scarlet?” Len drops his voice to a teasing whisper. Barry hadn’t been entirely sure he’d want sex with how overstimulated he’s been the last few days, but he’s very interested now. 

“Well, and dress you again,” Barry protests feebly. He can’t pretend he won’t sneak a peek, but Len knows that already. 

Len smirks. “I’m sure.” Once again, he taps his fork against Barry’s plate. “Eat up. I’d hate to see you get too impatient, Scarlet.”

Barry doesn’t exactly speed-eat—it draws too much attention in public—but he downs his food at a respectable pace. With his larger portion, this means he finishes around the same time as Len. 

Len glances at Barry’s plate. He’s got the same indulgent smile he usually gets when he praises Barry for cleaning his plate and permits him to have dessert. That’s more casual domination, though, so he just says, “Why don’t you go pick us out a slice of cake to share? You know my preferences.”

Barry does. He returns with a double chocolate cake turned on its side so Len can eat around the frosting, which he typically finds too sweet. This leaves Barry the frosting, an arrangement with which he’s perfectly content. He’s even happier to eat said frosting when Len feeds it to him, bite by teasingly slow bite. Barry is wiggling with impatience by the time they’re half done. Len just meets his eyes with another of those playful glances, and Barry stares murderous promise back at him. Just wait until they’re able to play tag…

When they finish, Len takes care of the bill. Barry eyes the bag at the side of Len’s chair. He’ll scoop it up when they go to leave so he doesn’t have the millisecond’s delay of taking it from Len once they’re in a suitably private place. 

“Are you ready to—” 

Before Len finishes his question, Barry is on his feet with the bag over his shoulder. “Yes,” he says with the cutest grin he can muster. It still comes out a bit too mischievous. “I’m ready.”

“Well then.” Len holds out his arm. “What do you say to a stroll by the waterfront?”

So he wants to play with Barry in an abandoned warehouse. Hardly the most romantic venue, but certainly one of the roomiest. Barry will have plenty of space to maneuver as the Flash, and Len will have plenty of crates or boxes behind which to lurk. Barry beams with anticipation and fights down the urge to flash them there immediately. “That would be delightful,” he says instead, linking his arm with Len’s. 

Once they’re on a quiet side road, Barry cautions, “Warehouse, here we come.” It’s just enough warning for Len to give a resigned sigh. Then Barry scoops him up, runs him to the warehouse, and digs in the bag to see what kind of outfits Len packed for them. 

“Your parka? Really?” he asks, knowing he’s still moving too fast for Len to hear him. 

In the blink of an eye, he's changed Len into his Captain Cold getup. Barry is in one of his older suits—too beat-up for Cisco’s seal of approval, and lacking a few of the cool tricks of the newer suits. Still, it’s protective, and it enables Barry to run at whatever speed he likes without incinerating his shoes. 

“Tag!” he shouts, thrusting the bag back into Len’s arms and taking off. He’s stowed their dress clothes in the bag, as neatly folded as he has the patience for. Len’s cold gun is on top of them in easy reach.

“Tag?” Len asks in confusion. Then he looks down at himself. With a flourish, he pulls out the cold gun and brandishes it. “Oh, so that’s how you want to play it, huh?”

Barry runs up behind him, taps him on the shoulder, and calls, “You better believe it!” as he bolts away. 

They play super-tag for the better part of half an hour. Len lands the occasional shot, but he has the setting so low it feels pretty much like an exceptionally bitter-cold snowball. Barry is able to shake it off (sometimes after skidding or toppling to the ground) and keep running. 

The chase ends when Barry misjudges a leap at the same time Len takes perfect aim. Cold bursts across his side and knocks him to the ground. He sprawls inelegantly, blinks to clear his head, and finds Len sitting on top of him, cold gun pressed against his chest. 

“Say I win,” he orders, grinning. 

Barry stares up at him, heart pounding. Then, with a wild smile, he flips them over, steals Len’s gun, and pins his wrists. “I win,” he echoes triumphantly.

Len flops back against the concrete and lets out a little breathless laugh. “Okay, you win,” he agrees, letting his eyes slide closed. Barry knows better than to believe that right away, so he keeps holding him down until Len peeks one eye open and demands, “Cuddle me, little scarlet punk.”

Immediately, Barry lets him go, curls up against his chest, and lets Len wrap his arms around him. “So we’re doing the cuddling, not the sex?” He finds he doesn’t mind. His attitude toward the idea of sex has been all over the place this evening, which means it’s probably best to go without. 

Len lifts his head just enough to give Barry a lopsided look. “Get the impression that’s what you wanted,” he admits. 

“I mean.” Barry considers. He’s still buzzing with adrenaline from the chase, although hypersensitive cuddling is just as nice as sex. “I could run us home and we could make out in the big bed? But yeah…no sex. I don’t even think I wanna come, just feel nice.”

Len nods and runs his fingers through Barry’s hair. “That can certainly be arranged, but, before you run us home and plop me in bed, one question: make out in the costumes or in our nightclothes?”

“Nightclothes,” Barry says. They’ve made out in costume plenty. It’s hot, but it’s not comfortable. Right now, he wants comfort more. 

In a flash, they’re back at home. The bag with their dress clothes has been safely stowed away; the cold gun is right where Len always keeps it. Their costumes have been tucked away, and both of them are in pajamas. 

“So.” Barry crawls on top of Len, who’s sprawled on the mattress looking only mildly dizzy. “Where were we?”

Len laughs and pulls him closer. “Distractible,” he teases before drawing Barry down into a lazy kiss. Barry would agree, but he’s much too distracted by Len’s touch to say anything.


	2. Chapter 2

Ray waits until Barry and Len have left to go for the drawer of takeout menus. “Something familiar or something new?” he checks, though he suspects he knows the answer.

Leo doesn’t disappoint. With a grin, he says, “Something familiar. It seems to be that kind of evening.”

Ray feels a sudden swell of joy that Leo can now call anything from this new Earth ‘something familiar.’ He never thought he would get to share even one meal with him here—he thought he’d lost his home Earth forever (and he’d been okay with that). “Yeah, it does.”

It takes a bit for their takeout to arrive. In the interim, they cuddle on the couch in a way they haven’t done in awhile: Ray’s head in Leo’s lap, Leo’s palm running back and forth across his bristly hair. Ray closes his eyes and purrs. “This is nice.”

“It’s still odd, even now, not to feel guilty for stealing a moment like this.” Leo scrapes his blunt nails against the nape of Ray’s neck. 

“We needed the time we took,” Ray soothes, rubbing his hand over Leo’s knee. That didn’t mean it hadn’t been hard to find time, but it had been worth it. They’d both learned to, if not be free of, at least balance the guilt they felt for taking time for themselves. They’d have burnt out (literally, in Ray’s case) without it. 

“I know,” Leo agrees. “But it was still a privilege to take it. It is even now, but it feels different.” He sighs and gives a little catlike stretch. “Speaking of privilege, if we’re going to scene, we have so much more time and so many options we’ve never had a chance to use solo before. The printed paddles are _adorable_.” 

Ray looks up at him, amused. “Oh, is that what you want me to do to you—spank ‘Love’ into your backside? Because trust me, I would _love_ to turn your ass a nice, bright red.” He would enjoy a painful scene like that more than Leo would—they’re not entirely compatible that way, though they’ve made it work. Leo finds spankings distracting, but they don’t get him into subspace very well. For many of their stolen scenes, that distraction was what he needed. Now, on a night when they can take their time and find a way to make him float, Ray isn’t sure a paddle is the way to go. 

Leo chews his lip. Ray knows him too well to believe he doesn’t have half a dozen plans for just such alone time as this; he’s trying to match those plans to their current mood. “Actually, I’ve been thinking…we’ve never done a proper tie. Not just as the two of us, anyway,” he adds with a teasing smile. 

“Not sure I’d call tying you and your stubborn doppelganger’s arms a ‘proper tie,’” Ray adds impishly, knowing exactly what he means. (It had been quite a rush getting both of them on their knees. Leo’s submission will always be a joy, as many times as he gives it, but having Len join him was overwhelming.) “All the more reason to tie you up now, while we have the whole evening to ourselves.” 

He imagines how lovely Leo would look, tied up tight. Len has such a lovely selection of ropes that they don’t lack for choices. He rather likes the thought of Leo bound in undyed rope. The colors Len has are pretty, but tonight, he thinks the simplicity of undyed rope would suit them. “Got a pattern in mind?” he checks. 

Leo shakes his head. “I thought you could choose, since you’ll be the one in charge.”

Ray likes the idea of tying him with his arms behind his back. Another day, he’d like to tie his wrists to his ankles, but that seems a bit much for their first time. “I’ll do a pretty tie and take pictures, if that’s all right?” Having the ability to take pictures of his lovers during scenes is delightful. He and Leo have never had the time before (and even if they did, it wouldn’t have been safe to keep them).

“Ooh yes, I’d like that.” Bashfully, Leo admits, “I want to see what I look like when I get nice and deep for you.”

Ray is about to heap praise on him when there’s a knock at the door. “Takeout,” he sighs and gets to his feet. “Hold that thought until after we eat.”

They take their time eating, or try to. It doesn’t really work—they’re too used to hurried meals—but it gives them a little time to talk. When they’re finished, Ray consciously shifts into a more commanding mindset. “I’ll clean up,” he says, reaching for Leo’s plate. “Go upstairs, get out the undyed rope and the shears and lay them on the bed. Then undress, get out your pillow, and kneel in the middle of the room to wait for me.”

Leo hums and looks up at him from under his lashes. Oh, that’s a look Ray’s missed. He hasn’t had nearly enough time to play with Leo like this, not when they’ve all been so focused on Barry. This might be one more good change to come from Barry’s request, if it frees them up to get a bit switchier. “Ooh, yes, Sir.”

Ray gives him about ten minutes—the amount of time it takes to find room for their leftovers in the fridge, get the dishes in the dishwasher, and make his way up to the playroom. When he opens the door, Leo is in the center of the room, as ordered. He’s a vision, kneeling naked and so sweetly submissive. Ray crosses to him, kneels down in front of him, and gives him a lingering kiss. “Check in with me before we start,” he coaxes between light, repeated kisses. “Are you comfortable? Feeling safe?”

Leo makes soft happy noises into each kiss. “Feeling good,” he says, beaming. Ray adores the melty-soft look he gets when he’s kissed just right. “My stress is already so much lower just from this. You’re going to have a puddle at the end of the scene.”

“Good.” Ray gets to his feet and grabs the rope. He unwinds it carefully, looking it over for any places that look rough or frayed. Seeing it perfectly in order, he orders, “Arms behind your back, elbows bent, forearms together.”

Obediently, Leo straightens his back and shoulders before settling his arms in place. Ray makes an approving sound, nudges him to adjust the smallest bit, and begins tying him up. 

Seeing the way Leo sinks into the ropes is beautiful. They’ve never done anything like this before, but he takes to it _wonderfully._ Before Ray is half-done, he’s working with a perfectly pliant, sleepy-eyed sub. 

“Check in,” Ray says, testing a new loop with his fingers. “How are you doing?”

“Good.” Leo’s voice is fully alert, if a little dreamy. His unbound forearms droop a little bit until Ray nudges his wrist. Then they return instantly to the correct position. “The rope is perfect so far, but you’re getting tighter as you go, be careful of that.”

Ray raises his eyebrows, but as he looks over the mostly-finished harness, he can tell Leo is right. “Good call. Thank you for letting me know.”

He finishes with a loose knot that will be easy to undo. The shears are on the bed in case Leo needs a quick out, but for extra security, Ray tucks the end of the rope into his hand. “If you tug this, the knot at your wrist will come loose. I’ll have to do the rest, but you have that amount of control.”

“Thank you,” Leo says dreamily. As though he’s been waiting for Ray to finish, he lets his head fall forward and his eyes fall closed. “Hmm, this is nice.”

Ray pulls over the desk chair and settles into it. Like this, Leo is at his feet, easy to pet and praise, and most importantly, easy to watch. He glances up at the clock and takes careful note of the time. “Barely begun, and you’re already deep in your head, aren’t you?” he coos. 

Leo hums and gives a sweet, peaceful smile. “Never complained about me being an easy sub before.”

“And not about to start now,” Ray agrees. He scratches his fingernails lightly over the curve of Leo’s head. Leo makes the sweetest purring noise in response and presses into his hand. Ray resists a quip about how, in finding a partner, he also found a cat. “It’s beautiful how quickly you relax for me.”

Leo drifts away in the space of a few breaths. Ray can’t help feeling a flare of envy at how he can do that. They’ve switched it up enough times for Ray to experience subspace, but he gets there almost exclusively through pain; he’s not submissive enough to let go the way Leo can. That discrepancy is part of why he doesn’t begrudge Leo the chance to sub so often; it’s fun to switch it up, but this feels good. Right. Safe.

(Fleetingly, he wonders if Len could slip into subspace this easily, provided he felt safe enough, or if that’s yet another of their many differences.) 

“You’re stunning like this,” he praises as Leo drifts. “So relaxed, so trusting. As much as you get lost in your head when we do this, I get lost in watching you.”

Once Leo is still and relaxed, Ray gets to his feet and takes pictures from every angle. He wants Leo to see everything—the intricate crisscross of the rope, the way it frames or crosses his scars, the blissful expression on his face. Then he sits back down in the chair and takes a picture from his perspective. For that one, he takes care to rest his hand on Leo’s head as though caught mid-pet, showing him how protected and adored he is. 

“My perfect love,” he murmurs. 

Leo beams without opening his eyes. When he speaks, his voice is dreamy and distant. “You make me feel so good. So safe. Thank you.”

Ray leans forward to kiss his brow. “Thank _you_ , love. Seeing you like this is truly a gift.” 

Eventually, Ray has to bring him up. Leo is starting to wriggle occasionally, but he’s still much too deep to ask to be let out. Instead, Ray gives him a kiss on the top of his head and warns, “As beautiful as you are like this, love, I need to untie you now. I want you to focus on coming back up to me as the rope comes away from your skin.”

Leo gives a little purr. Ray can’t tell whether it’s acknowledgment or just pleasure at the sound of his voice; he hopes for the former. He gets to work slowly and carefully untying the rope, starting with the knot at Leo’s wrist. 

“Look at you,” he praises. Another knot comes easily apart and more loops of rope fall away from Leo’s skin. It leaves imprints on his skin, ridged with the twist of the rope; Ray rubs his hand over them before moving on to the next knot. “Drifting so peacefully, being so obedient for me. I’m sure you’d kneel even longer if I let you, but…” He presses a kiss to one of the ridged indentations. “It’s time to be done.”

When the last loop of rope falls away, Ray wraps it up loosely and sets it aside. He’ll clean up properly later. For now, he gets to take his drifty, slightly stiff sub in his arms and coax him up onto the bed. Leo stumbles to his feet, wincing as his muscles stretch out of the position they've kept for so long. 

“Back with me, love?” Ray tucks him under the covers and crawls in at his side. Leo peers up at him through heavy-lidded, sleepy eyes, smiling in a way that makes Ray want to kiss him again. There’s absolutely no reason not to, he remembers, so he gives Leo a sweet, lingering kiss. His thumb brushes across Leo’s cheek, feeling the faint hint of stubble rasp against his skin. Leo’s hands grasp clumsily at his shoulders and press against his back, trying to pull him closer. 

“Not going anywhere,” he promises. “We can just cuddle for awhile.”

Indeed they do. Ray had meant to eventually get up and peer into the master bedroom to see if Len and Barry want cuddles, but in the end, he and Leo fall asleep where they are. When he wakes in the predawn hours from an entirely dreamless night, he can’t say he’s sorry for that.


End file.
